


just close your eyes, you'll be alright

by xuming8



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Graduate School, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft Xu Ming Hao | The8, a hint of fluff if you squint, boyfriends gyuhao, dance teacher minghao, minghao is whipped, mingyu is a struggling grad student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuming8/pseuds/xuming8
Summary: This isn’t the first time Mingyu has gone into a panic attack, and certainly it won’t be the last. But in that moment Mingyu feels like everything is right with the world.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	just close your eyes, you'll be alright

When Mingyu wakes, he doesn’t bother to glance at the alarm clock that sits close to edge of his nightstand, but he knows it can’t be anywhere close to the hours of daylight. Nights of waking up during the ungodly hours, if he has to guess it is probably striking at 2 a.m., 3 a.m. at the most.

The sheets stick to his sweat-coated legs like a second skin, and he does his best to gently unravel himself from their grasp without waking up his bed partner. He gives his companion a soft look before slipping out of the bedroom and onto the veranda through the sliding glass door.

Seoul’s cool air hits his damp skin as he sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, and he sits down on the cushioned bench. His mind goes into a state of panic as he thinks about the unfinished term paper that he has yet to start doing. He convinces himself it’s going to be fine. 

He doesn’t feel “perfectly fine”.

He knows he isn’t fine. 

He is an overachiever, do what it takes till it takes everything he is. The pressure, everything has to be done to a measure. In the sea of competition of graduate students, Mingyu is sinking like a treasure.

He wants a break from the world, but the world wants to break him. The weight of being a mediocre graduate student makes his bones curl up and aches him. 

Anxiety disorder. 

He knows he has it. 

But Mingyu is a closed off person. And he’s not that all comfortable about people picking his layers apart and letting them in. Even people who are there only to help him. 

And so, without a job, without anyone to help him, Mingyu found other ways to live. So, he copes like this. Does this instead of seeing a doctor, or a therapist, or a support group. It’s not ideal, he knows, but at least he’s breathing. 

Like clockwork, he wakes up during ungodly hours of the night when most people are still fast asleep, from a nightmare, and he sits himself down, and waits. 

He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for. Is he waiting for his heart rate to go down? For exhaustion and fatigue to finally take over his body and send him back to bed? For nightmares to drain out of him.

Mingyu doesn’t know. 

He just… waits.

But waiting kills him just as the nightmares do. The deafening silence torments him.

Grad school isn’t anything like undergraduate school. He had known that when he enrolled as a Information Technology graduate. 

It isn’t anything like undergraduate years where he could just bullshit his way through life and still end up with decent grades. 

It’s sleepless nights of sitting alone in his poorly lit kitchen, correcting stacks of thesis paper that his supervisor had rejected. 

It’s nights of laying in bed awake contemplating whether to call it quits but not being able to do it because he had invested so much in grad school. 

It’s biting his tongue, gritting his teeth, and diving headfirst into the hall to present his dissertation progress that he knows will be rejected time and again. 

Then it’s waking up and not wanting to go to class. Then it’s trying to sleep at night and stay awake during the day. Then it’s trying to deal with the nightmares of failing. Then it’s getting his appetite back. Then it’s reminding himself to live and not just breathe. 

Then it’s torture, torture, torture, torture.

Then it’s Xu Minghao.

They had met through a mutual friend, Yoon Jeonghan, who invited both of them to his son’s piano recital. 

Jeonghan had always been one of those friends who liked to stick his nose in everything and think that it was his responsibility to make all of his friends, and the likes, happy. And what he had thought Mingyu desperately needed at that time was a date. So, he used his son’s recital as a scheme to set one up. Typical Jeonghan, really. 

So Mingyu showed up right on time to Chan’s elementary school with holding a bouquet of daisies and he was digging his palm with his index finger. Jeonghan spotted him right by the door.

He slid past Wonwoo and Soonyoung on the end and got his ass slapped by the former, as a means of greeting. He then walked past Jeonghan’s husband, Jisoo, and they exchanged polite smiles before he took a seat on the spot next to Jeonghan. The chair next to him was empty save a jacket that Mingyu recognized to be Jeonghan’s that laid across the back.

Mingyu shifted his glance between the jacket and then at his friend. 

“Ah, that’s for Minghao. He should be here very soon,” Jeonghan smiled sheepishly before craning his head back to avoid from meeting Mingyu’s glare. 

A brief idea of leaving entertained his mind for a second, but the daisies had felt heavy in his hands and so was the thought of a cheeky Lee Chan pouting at him. The words “just try” rang in his head. So, he fixed his sweater sleeves, crossed one leg over the other, and willed his mind to stop thinking about school. 

A few murmured apologies later and this “Minghao” friend was seated next to Mingyu. 

“Mingyu, this is Xu Minghao. He’s Chan’s dance teacher. Minghao, this my friend Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu was super prepared to deny Minghao’s presence, but curiosity got the best of him so he figured he would just sneak a quick look. 

Minghao was attractive, thank you very much. His skin was that of a golden hue and it seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the gym. His lips were small but full and they pouted as he sat. His hair was jet black and touching the nape of his long, beautiful neck, and it swept artfully across his forehead.

Three months of playing skinny love, Mingyu kissed him. On the mouth. Right outside Minghao’s favourite Chinese restaurant. Just out of nowhere. Minghao was busy nagging Mingyu about which brand of Vitamin is the best when Mingyu just stretched up and pecked his mouth because he couldn’t help himself. 

And the quiet, uncomplicated moment was ruined when sorrysorrysorrys spilled from Mingyu’s mouth until Minghao surged forward to cup his cheeks and went in for a second kiss. 

Their second kiss lasted longer. A lot longer. Until their fingertips were numb from the cold, and their noses red, and lips were puffy and swollen. 

Mingyu felt okay. 

He wasn’t anxious. 

He wasn’t burdened. 

He felt fine. 

He was “perfectly fine”.

Minghao made him feel fine. 

Not exceptional, or giddy, or in love. Just fine. “Perfectly fine.” And that was more that enough for Mingyu. 

Give it another three months and they did more than just kiss. Give it almost a year and Mingyu moved into Minghao’s artfully decorated studio apartment that sat right over his dance studio. Give it 2 years and Mingyu was relaxed enough to finally be comfortable with the idea that he was in love with Minghao. Give it until just last week and Mingyu has said just as much to Minghao. 

They were curled up against each other on Minghao’s couch. Mingyu’s head was in Minghao’s lap and he was running his slender fingers through his hair, twirling Mingyu’s soft locks and Mingyu just blurted it like some goddamn idiot.

But it worked. It somehow fits this relationship between them. This soft murmuring, they shared. This unhurried pace of theirs. 

Mingyu didn’t need to hear Minghao sigh “I love you” back to know that Minghao, does in fact, loves him. 

Because Minghao speaks a different love language. 

Minghao speaks in quiet hushed tones of telling Mingyu that things will be fine when the latter comes home with a rejected thesis and breaks down crying at their front door. 

Minghao’s love language is having Mingyu in his lap and putting up his hand to block the sun rays from shining on Mingyu who is reading research journals. 

Minghao’s love language is welcoming Mingyu into a hug outside the hall where Mingyu has to present the progress of his dissertation.

Minghao’s love language is leaning into Mingyu’s chest, sighing contently after they’ve woken up from their naps on late afternoons when Mingyu doesn’t have any lectures to attend. 

Minghao doesn’t speak the same love language that Mingyu does. But Mingyu reads between the lines and hears Minghao telling him that he loves him too. 

And that was it. 

But not everything was as uncomplicated as that.

The sound of solid rhythmic thumps against wood are close to hypnotizing. 

“Fuck this, I want to fall asleep and never wake up.

Too much work. Too many emotions. I can’t keep up.”

Mingyu rests his weary eyes, breathing deep and counting down the seconds before he releases. 

Inhale. 

One, two, three, four, five. 

Exhale. 

Mingyu offhandedly wonders how much further he can push it before the pressure eventually swallows him whole. 

One, two, three, four, fiv-

Choke. 

“Is this what it’s like to drown?”

An abstract thought. 

"I wonder."

Somewhere in the void of sound below the ocean, a voice seeps into his ears. 

Just let go. 

Let go. 

Let go.

Let go.

I’ll catch you. 

“Catch me.” 

His eyes remain shut.

Next thing Mingyu knows, he’s free falling. The wind tickles his neck and ears, cradling him in wispy limbs and another message.

Take my hand. 

Take it. 

Take it.

Take it.

I’ll save you. 

“That,” Mingyu says in a hushed tone. “That sounds nice.”

“Hello? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know what to do! I’m going to fall!”

You’re alright.

Trust yourself.

Trust.

Trust. 

Mingyu’s eyes are squeezed shut, tears welling up.

“I can’t do it!”

But his guide is long gone. 

He gasps, awoken from his imagination. His mouth hangs wide open as he fights to swallow down a breath or air. 

“M’ngyu?”

Mingyu freezes. Or tries to. His hands are clammy, perspiring, and raw. Minghao steps onto the veranda and plops himself down next to Mingyu and curls up in his lap without paying any mind to Mingyu shaking and losing control. 

“I woke up and my giant puppy wasn’t there,” He sighs into Mingyu’s belly, his breath featherlight against Mingyu’s cold skin. 

Minghao hums again and shifts again until he’s laying on his back and looking up at Mingyu’s face. The dim light of the moon paints a pretty picture in Mingyu’s lap. 

Minghao still looks like a dream even though all Mingyu had seen these past few years in grad school were nightmares. Thick eyelashes, hooded eyelids, pouty lips, smooth skin. Mingyu wants to reach out and touch him, but his arms remain glued to his sides.

Instead, Minghao brings up his own hands and begins stroking the skin of Mingyu’s face. His eyes are heavy on him, soaking him in and just existing with him.

The sensation is hypnotic and Mingyu finds himself calming down. Taking in deeps breathes through his nose and letting them go between his parted lips. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Minghao asks so softly, voice barely audible Mingyu almost doesn’t hear it. 

It blends into the rest of the night. Calm, dark, deep.

Mingyu is already shaking his head before replying, “No. No I- no. Sorry.”

Minghao brushes his thumb over Mingyu’s lips. “Don’t be.”

Mingyu nods softly, as to not disturb Minghao’s hands on his face. “Tell me about your day.”

“It was a long story, alright. I woke up and I was shivering because my dumb boyfriend took all the covers-“Mingyu scoffs. “-so I took him to the shower with me,” Minghao places a delicate kiss on Mingyu’s hand, “and of course, Teacher Xu was late to his first lesson. But it was worth it,” 

“I taught the first years how to stand in second position. It took thirty minutes before any of them could hold it right. Of course Chan was the first to get it, so he started bossing the other kids around,” Minghao giggles against Mingyu’s hand, kissing the skin again. “Then I got lunch with Jeonghan hyung. He brought Chan. We both ordered the dinosaur chicken nuggets. And had a T-Rex battle with blood ketchup and everything. He’s a pretty neat kid, Mingyu,” -kiss-“He’s a lot like Jisoo hyung,” another kiss.

“After lunch I went to meet up with Seungkwan and Hansol. God, they’re so gross nowadays. If we ever get that gross, just dump me, please. Promise me,” Mingyu promises. “They couldn’t keep their hands off each other I almost vomited.” 

“Then I came home to my handsome boyfriend,” Mingyu can feel Minghao’s teeth graze his fingers. He’s smiling, “And he was cooking in that dumb apron Soonyoung gave him as a gag gift last Christmas that he insists is cute on him,” Mingyu fights down the need to reply that it looks cute on him, “and he’s making pork kimchi stew and surprisingly he didn’t break any kitchenware today,” Mingyu lightly flicks Minghao’s ear, “and I end up standing there. Staring at him like an idiot, for a good 15 minutes.”

Mingyu freezes. He didn’t know about this. 

“I stood there, with my bag on my shoulder and coat in my arms and I’m honestly floored. Did I save Goryeo in my past life? Because here is this absolutely gorgeous man and he’s all mine,” Minghao’s eyes get hooded and Mingyu’s hands start to tremble and his breathing picks up.

“So you can imagine that I couldn’t help myself. And I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss his neck and you know what he did?”

Mingyu humoured him, “What?”

“He slapped me with a spoon.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling, “You scared me.”

“Scared? My boyfriend?” Minghao’s eyebrows are knit together as if Mingyu just told him a complete rubbish, “No. Not my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu. He’s the bravest man I know.”

Mingyu huffs out a bitter laugh.

“He’s a fighter, Mingyu. He wakes up everyday and loves me even though he knows everything about me. He wakes up and experiences the world even though the world is constantly letting him down. And I find that so, so brave.” Minghao kisses the back of Mingyu’s hand and murmurs, “and that’s my day.”

Minghao smiles. Clearly and unashamed. His eyes scrunch up with joy and his tongue pokes out between his teeth. And Mingyu’s heart is warm. 

No.

It’s burning.

He’s burning.

Everything about Minghao is warm. 

Warm tones. He’s a scarf on a windy day, hot coffee in the middle of winter, and a bright smile in the darkest parts of Mingyu’s life.

Everything is still for a bit. Mingyu parts Minghao’s mouth and their tongues brush easily until Minghao smiles and tips his head back.

“I love you.”

Mingyu can taste the sincerity. 

Can see it.

Can hear it.

Can feel it. 

And he basks in it. 

This isn’t the first time Mingyu has gone into a panic attack, and certainly it won’t be the last. But in that moment Mingyu feels like everything is right with the world. 

So his life isn’t full of rainbows and sunshine but that’s okay because the colours that Mingyu sees now are still black, white, and red. 

Black for Minghao’s bottomless eyes. 

White for Minghao’s blinding smile.

And red. 

Red for love. 

He looks into Minghao’s eyes, smiles and replies,

“And I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Here's an attempt at fluff!


End file.
